


Breathe

by sockslost



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Present Tense, post-episode killer in high heels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 10:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21160544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sockslost/pseuds/sockslost
Summary: Set after Killer in High Heels. Maura has an anxiety attack while attending a banquet after the events of the episode. She's afraid that what happened then will happen again, and Jane is there to comfort her.





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This show has never really delivered well the aftermath of a traumatic thing. So, this is my small effort to fix just one of those scenes. It's the first banquet/charity event Maura goes to after the events of Killer in High Heels. It talks a little about the episode, so that might bother some people if that episode was hard to watch. And has strong descriptions of anxiety/panic.
> 
> And THANK YOU! To Speakers77 for once again being an awesome beta!
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't own. No money. etc. etc.

_Breathe._

There is a tremble in Maura’s fingers as she fastens the diamond stud to her ear. Her fumbling nearly causes her to drop the backing onto the vanity. She catches herself in the mirror. Fear so plainly stares back her. She looks away quickly and tries to busy her mind with the task of getting presentable. She hasn’t even left for the banquet yet; she is still _safe _in her own home. But the anticipation of leaving drives the anxiety, and panic begins to leak through her skin and soak her bones.

This is normal.

She repeats those words over and over in her mind.

This is normal.

This is normal.

_This is normal._

Science has always been a comfort to her, has always given her a better understanding of the world around her. Science has always been her saving grace, her fall back. Science has always helped

And yet.

She understands – probably more than most – about post-traumatic stress. She’s read numerous medical journals about the body’s natural responses to trauma. She knows all the clinical pieces, all the moving parts, knows how different it can be case by case

And yet.

She closes her eyes and takes a long, steadying breath.

In the silence, between her own heartbeat thudding loudly between her ears, she can hear Jane rustling with something downstairs. She pictures the detective in her mind then. Tall and lanky, her hair down and completely wild like it usually is. Maura can easily imagine her hopping on one foot to put her shoes on because she’s too impatient to do it slowly, can picture her fiddling with the sleeves of the nicest suit she owns. Her heart rate begins to decrease.

What happened last time _will not _happen this time. Jane has all but sworn an oath that she will stick to Maura’s side like glue the entire night. She has hired a car with a female driver. She has set up a designated pick-up time. She will _not _be alone with anyone at any point during the evening.

She counts in her head.

_One. Two. Three. _

_Inhale._

_Exhale._

_Breathe. _

It works for a moment.

Long enough for her to get her earrings in, long enough to fluff her hair, and apply her lipstick. She looks at herself in the mirror. She feels marginally better as she stands. Though, her hands are still trembling.

…

Jane looks up from fiddling with her collar as Maura comes down the stairs. Like always, she forgets to breathe for a moment. Maura is just too pretty for words – and even if Jane had them, she would never voice them. But tonight, her beauty is overshadowed by the trepidation that lingers in her eyes. And Jane’s heart shatters into tiny irreplaceable shards all over Maura’s living room.

Maura has always been the strongest and the brightest person she’s ever known and to see her so afraid causes something visceral inside of her to break.

She will do better. It’s a vow Jane has already made, but it doesn’t hurt to repeat it to herself.

Jane tries to offer a small smile of encouragement. “You look great, Maura.”

Maura’s lips twitch at the compliment and she murmurs a soft, “thank you.”

Jane straightens up, as Maura fully comes down the stairs. She offers her arm and together they walk out the front door.

…

The banquet is a slow evening of haute cuisine and haughty people. Sometimes, it’s hard for Jane to remember this is where Maura is from. Watching her work the room always leaves her a little bit intimidated – which was why she left early the last time. This is a version of Maura she doesn’t know. With these people Maura is on an untouchable plane and Jane can’t help being in awe.

Jane spends her evening creating _Clue-_like scenarios for everyone in her mind. She is surrounded by thieves, crooks, and murderers. Everyone has an alibi for the crime. Her eyes narrow as her inner monologue continues to spin tall tales. Who did it? Was it the older gentleman with the clean mustache? Or perhaps the older woman with the opera gloves by the hors d'oeuvres?

Jane doesn’t know how they get separated or when. She just looks to her right and where Maura once was an older redheaded woman now stands talking to a fully grey gentleman.

Sheer panic shoots up her spine.

…

A couple hours into the event and Maura is feeling much better about the whole thing. The panic and anxiety from earlier all but fades and she’s enjoying herself. She relaxes. And when a long-time friend of her parents comes to talk to her and wants to introduce her to her granddaughter Maura turns toward Jane and tells her she’ll be right back.

And that was the plan.

Except on her way back to Jane she’s stopped by a man she doesn’t know. He’s not much taller than she is in heels. They appear to be the same age. As he sees her, he gives a charming smile and walks toward her.

Panic crawls up Maura’s neck. It attaches itself to her diamond necklace and doesn’t let go.

_This is not the same thing_, she tells herself. It’s _not._ But she is not thinking rationally and her brain is playing tricks on her. Flashing images of a dark car, a man with a beard, and endless blackness.

Someone accidently bumps her from behind. She stumbles forward on unsteady legs. The man – who seems kind and gentle and not nefarious one second and then evil and corrupt the next – reaches out to steady her.

It’s a kind gesture. A normal thing to do.

But the grip feels too tight. And she can’t breathe. And the world spins.

She needs to find Jane. But Jane left, didn’t she?

She stumbles into a hard body, and pushes past another. Down a hallway and through a door until she’s gripping white porcelain.

…

Jane looks up in the middle of her search at the sudden hushed whispers and shocked faces. She sees Maura dart down the hallway and into the bathroom. Not caring about propriety, she takes off running.

Jane slows her approach as she opens the door to the bathroom.

Maura is standing at the sink. Her shoulders are tense and bunched by her ears as her head hangs low. The muscles in her arms stand out, and her chest heaves as she breathes, ragged and rough. And Jane’s heart shatters again. “Oh, Maura.” She whispers as she steps fully into the room.

Jane moves slowly, like she would toward a wounded animal. She’s had enough of these moments herself to know how this works. She slips off her blazer and stands close enough that Maura can see her in her periphery. “You’re safe, Maura.” She says in a voice steadier than how she feels. “It’s okay.”

And she stands there in that bathroom repeating those words over and over until finally, Maura turns her head a fraction toward her.

Her petite body is shaking uncontrollably and there are tear tracks down her cheeks. Jane holds her blazer open. “I want you to put this on, okay?”

Maura nods and slips into the still-warm, and too big jacket. She burrows into the material.

…

Maura sits on the bed with her back against the headboard. She has her legs folded to her chest, and her cheek rests on her knees.

They are at her house and she feels marginally better in Jane’s pajamas – somehow, they always feel better than her own – in her own bed, under her own covers. But the panic is sticky and clings to her skin even long after her shower. She is so bone weary and cold. She just wants to curl into the warmth of her blankets and emerge anew next spring.

Jane walks into the room from the bathroom. Her hair is damp and her skin still dewy from her own shower. Her movements are soft and slow, like she’s afraid to set Maura off. That any sudden movement could do her in. And despite knowing that this is normal, despite knowing she’s suffered a traumatic experience and having a reaction to that is _normal _\- she hates herself for it. She hugs her knees tighter to her chest.

She tracks Jane’s movement with her eyes. She watches Jane walk toward the door and for a moment Maura worries she’s going to leave and go to the guest room. But she doesn’t. Jane flips the light switch, leaving the room in darkness. She nearly sighs in relief when Jane settles on the bed next to her and gets comfortable underneath the blankets.

Jane always gives off an aura of safety and comfort and now, Maura lets it wash over her in waves.

They are silent for a long, long moment before Maura finally speaks. “I’m sorry.”

Jane furrows her eyebrows. She turns to Maura but her eyes haven’t quite adjusted to the darkness and she can’t make out anything about her. “For what?”

Maura sniffs. “I... I knew tonight would be difficult.”

Jane reaches out but let’s her hand fall back to her lap halfway there. She bites her lip with no idea what to say next. This role reversal has thrown her for a loop, and all she wants to do is pull Maura to her and hold her tightly.

“God,” the word is a broken gasp as Maura buries her head further in her knees, “everyone must think I’m…” she trails off.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” 

“I can only imagine the calls my parents have received.”

A thought occurs to Jane. “Did...did you tell them what happened?”

Maura gives a hollow, humorless laugh. She looks at Jane, and even through the darkness Jane can see her eyes are wet and puffy. “Tell them what? That I’d been arrested for murder?”

Jane rubbed her eyes in frustration. She’d gone over the investigation repeatedly in her mind. None of it should’ve happened the way that it did.

“They would’ve chastised me for not getting a lawyer immediately, and they would be right, but do you want to know why I didn’t? Because _what if I did it? _What if I killed him, Jane?” Her chin wobbles as she speaks, and Jane can hear her teeth clatter together.

“You didn’t.” Jane says earnestly. “_You didn’t.”_

“You know who my father is. Who my brother was. What makes me any different than them? Than Hoyt?” She says like it’s the final nail in her coffin and has condemned her eternally.

Jane turns on the mattress. The blankets get tangled and bunched between them, but Jane doesn’t care. “We all come from somewhere, Maura.” She reaches over the invisible line separating them and gently holds Maura’s knee. Maura is so curled tightly that the touch makes her body rock side to side. “That doesn’t define who we are, who we become. Hell, if it did, I’d be an alcoholic plumber working on my second divorce.”

Through the darkness, Jane can see Maura crack a teary smile.

“And if you _had _killed Brad Adams it would’ve been in self-defense.

“Everyone thought I did it, Jane. Even your mother.”

“_I_ didn’t. And they were all wrong, Maura. Completely wrong. You never should’ve been put in handcuffs and never should’ve gone to jail. It was obvious you were the victim. Our department screwed up. We were the ones that were wrong, Maura. Not you. Us. Me.” Jane’s voice is full of fire and conviction.

Silence envelopes them.

“It...it still bothers me that I can’t remember most of the night. I try and try and try and it’s just...blank.”

Jane takes a deep breath. She scoots closer on the mattress, and wraps her free arm around Maura’s shoulders. “I wish I could say something that would help. I’m sorry that this happened to you and that I wasn’t there.”

After a moment, Maura whispers, “you got me out, Jane.” She takes a deep breath and stretches her body out. Her back and her legs ache from being bent for so long. She yawns, suddenly feeling exhausted. “You always get me out.”

Jane smiles sadly. She squeezes Maura’s knee. “That’s my job.” She reaches over in the space between them and pulls Maura’s trembling body tighter to her. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” The words are whispered into Maura’s hair.

Maura melts into Jane’s embrace. She wraps her arms tightly around her middle and breathes in deeply. Lavender and mint and Jane’s warmth surround her. She burrows deeper into the mattress and the woman beneath her. “You are now.”


End file.
